Divorce With Benefits: A Second Chance At Love
Chapter 162: Divorce with Benefits

Chapter 162: Divorce with Benefits

The agonizing minutes stretched on, each one feeling heavier than the last. The air in the room was thick with tension, every breath Jerica took labored and painful. Then, at last—

A piercing cry filled the delivery room, raw and new, the sound of life announcing itself. The doctor swiftly checked the baby’s vitals before placing the tiny bundle onto Jerica’s chest.

The warmth of her daughter’s fragile body against her own sent a wave of emotions crashing over her. Relief, exhaustion, overwhelming love—it was all too much, yet somehow, not enough.

She looked at her baby—tiny and precious. Jerica kept on staring at her baby.

I made her! I... Wow! She’s my daughter!

"Congratulations on your baby girl, Mr. Petrovski," the doctor announced.

A girl. Jerica exhaled deeply, her body relaxing as realization sank in. A girl. Just like Jared had wanted. She had given him what he hoped for. She turned to look at him, expecting to see excitement in his eyes, but—

Jared wasn’t even paying attention to the doctor’s words. He wasn’t focused on the baby, not yet. Instead, his entire being was fixated on her. On Jerica. His hands trembled as he cupped her face, his lips pressing against her damp forehead.

"Are you okay?" His voice was low, thick with emotion. His lips brushed against her temple as he murmured again, "You did it, Jerica... you did it."

Jerica smiled despite the exhaustion weighing her down. Her heart clenched at how deeply he cared for her well-being. Had he jumped in excitement over winning the bet he made with his mother, she might have been irritated. But he didn’t. He cared about her first. That meant everything.

She shifted slightly and looked down at the tiny baby resting against her chest. Carefully, she traced a finger over the baby’s soft cheek. "Should we name her Alexandra?" she asked, glancing up at Jared.

Jared hesitated for only a second before carefully taking his daughter into his arms. The moment he held her, something inside him shifted. This little one... she was his. So small, so delicate—so completely dependent on him. He felt an inexplicable surge of protectiveness, an overwhelming need to keep her safe, to give her everything.

His lips brushed against the baby’s forehead in the gentlest of kisses. Her tiny pink lips quivered, and suddenly—

"Oh no..." Jared whispered, gently rocking her as her face crumpled and a small wail escaped her lips. He was struck with the sudden, irrational fear that he had somehow hurt her.

But as soon as she was placed back on Jerica’s chest, her cries stopped, her body relaxing into her mother’s warmth. She nuzzled against Jerica, her lips parting in a soft, almost contented sigh. Jared let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, a soft chuckle escaping him as he rocked her gently and hummed a lullaby. The tiniest upturn of her lips made his heart swell.

As the doctors finished tending to Jerica, the nurses took the baby to be weighed. Moments later, Lydia and Arthur entered the room.

Lydia rushed to Jerica’s side first, scanning her with worried eyes. She cupped her daughter’s face, ensuring she was truly fine before turning her attention to the baby. Only once she was satisfied that both mother and child were safe did she allow herself to breathe.

"She looks just like her father," Lydia murmured as she held the now-cleaned baby. There was warmth in her voice, a softness that Jerica had rarely seen.

Jerica’s heart swelled. Seeing her mother hold her child felt like a bridge between past and future—like healing.

As per Lydia’s instructions, everything needed for the baby had already been brought to the room. She had gone to great lengths to ensure the baby would never leave Jerica’s side. Security was placed at every entrance, and a private nurse was appointed solely to watch over them.

Jerica knew it was her mother’s way of protecting her, of making sure history never repeated itself. She understood now, more than ever, the depth of Lydia’s fear.

Jared sat on the edge of the bed, wrapping his arm around Jerica as he gazed down at their daughter. His daughter. He had never known he could love someone so deeply, so instantly.

"Alexandra Petrovski," he whispered, testing the name.

Jerica smiled, leaning against him. "Our daughter."

And just like that, their family began.

Years passed, and Jerica and Jared’s love only deepened. The house Jared built for her had transformed into their family home—a place where laughter echoed through the halls, where their four children—two girls and two boys grew, and where love flourished.

Jared’s power and influence had risen over the years, but he never lost sight of what mattered most—his family. He had almost lost her once, blinded by ambition, letting the demands of his career overshadow the love they had built. But she had forgiven him. She had fought for him, even when he no longer had the strength to fight for himself.

All she had ever wanted was his attention, his presence, and that never changed throughout the years. She had given him everything—her love, her devotion, and her unwavering support.

Tonight, as he sat at the large dining table in the Glover family’s summer home, he took it all in—the life they had built, the people they had become. Around him sat the people he held dearest.

Arthur and Lydia, now aged but still very much in love, shared a quiet conversation, their hands naturally finding each other’s. Across from them, Alfred sat with his wife as they whispered sweet nothings in each others ears. Their four children were running amok with his kids.

Beside him, Harold sat with his wife, Catherine. They had three children of their own now, and even after all these years, Harold looked at Catherine with the same adoration as when they first started dating.

Jared never expected Harold to become such an integral part of his life, but somehow, over the years, he had become more than a distant cousin—he was like a brother. It felt right to include him in family vacations and dinners.

Yet, amidst all the joy, there was an ache in his heart. His mother wasn’t here. He missed her. But he found solace in the fact that she had lived long enough to witness the births of all his children. She had passed peacefully, surrounded by love, and if happiness in death was possible, she had found it.

In the distance, the sound of laughter filled the warm evening air. Their children played together, carefree, their voices blending into the perfect melody of innocence and happiness.

"They’re having the childhood we never had," Jerica whispered, resting her chin on his shoulder.

Jared turned to her, his heart swelling with emotion.

"Thank you for making it possible," she continued, her voice thick with gratitude.

She had always dreamed of a big, loving family—of gatherings where everyone sat around the same table, where love was abundant and unconditional. Jared had made that dream come true. He had embraced not only her but also her family, weaving them into the fabric of their lives.

And her parents... oh, how she loved them. They had shown her what parental love truly felt like. They had guided her, supported her, and never hesitated to be there for her. They babysat her children, protected her family, and loved them as their own.

She adored them, but the man beside her—nothing and no one could ever compare to him.

"I told you," Jared murmured, pressing a soft kiss to her hair. "You are the rest of my life."

He had once wanted to keep her all to himself, but she had opened his heart, his world. Seeing her happiness had changed everything for him. She had taught him that love wasn’t just about possession—it was about sharing, about growing, about building a life where joy was multiplied, not confined.

"You proved that well, husband," she teased, leaning into him as their fingers intertwined.

A gentle smile played on her lips, and in that moment, with the summer breeze brushing against them and the warmth of their loved ones surrounding them, Jared knew—this was everything.

"I love you," she whispered, her voice carrying the weight of years, of struggles, of triumphs.

She had always loved him. Even when she had nearly walked away, even when divorce had felt like the only option, she had loved him. Sometimes, she felt guilty for even considering leaving him, for hiding her pain instead of confronting him with it.

But he had known. He had always known.

He had once told her that seeing those divorce papers had been the turning point. It had shaken him, had forced him to reevaluate everything. In a way, the process of nearly losing each other had brought them back together, stronger than before.

Their divorce came with benefits.

In return, life had given them everything—love, family, and all the happiness this world had to offer.